What will happen when I get you on all fours, pull down your red panties, shove my strap-on cock in your ass and fuck you before the full-length mirror, forcing you to look at yourself and tell me, out loud, what a whore you are?
Good morning my corporate slut,
Are you starting to finally realize what it really means for me to own your cock?
You used to have so much freedom. You could jerk off at will. You could cum whenever you wanted. Admit it, you even enjoyed it when I dressed you in too-tight feminine panties and send you into the men’s room to jerk off in their crotch, even if it meant kneeling down to lick the oozing creamy cum out of the crotch.
Hell, at least you were cumming.
Night-time erections and morning wood were so common for you, I bet you wish it could be like the old days when waking up three or four times a night with an erection wasn’t painful enough to make your eyes water.
And in the old days, with the chastity devices that were removable, we both know you’d just take it off and mutter that you did the best you could. Unfortunately, that made me feel not quite so fulfilled, and I wanted to know your cock – my property – was locked up, securely, by me.
You have no idea what it is like to walk around with the key to your sanity on a chain around my neck. A beautiful white gold necklace and a clunky but fashionable pendant hides the key to your sanity. Will you see that again any time soon?
Doubtful.
It makes me ache with pleasure seeing those longing, soulful eyes tearing into me when I merely enter the room because my presence makes the bulge in the cage even more painful. I simply touch your face with my fingers or get close enough so that you can smell my perfume and I can hear the grimace in your breathing, and feel the tension in your body.
Oh, to have such an immediate effect on you!
It just makes me want to see how much you can take before your sanity begins to take a toll. How much will you beg? How far will you be willing to go? If my presence makes you weak in the knees and forces you to “take a moment” once an hour to compose yourself and put ice on your nuts, what will happen when I sit on your face, ride your tongue to orgasm, or smother you with my ass cheeks?
What will happen when I get you on all fours, pull down your red panties, shove my strap-on cock in your ass and fuck you before the full-length mirror, forcing you to look at yourself and tell me, out loud, what a whore you are?
What will happen when I finger fuck you first, to get you wet and nasty, and then make you go down on my shaft eagerly and lustfully until your eyes water and tears are streaming down your face?
Just reclining there with my legs open, watching you do all the work, my power over you – my power over MY COCK – will be the most obvious thing between us. Each hour that you are denied, your willingness to do things otherwise unthinkable will become stronger.
Any resistance you had will be stripped away. You know I have such an erotic fascination with the idea of breaking down your walls. What better way than to keep your cock locked up until you are pushed to the brink of sanity?
Will you beg me to suck another man’s dick? Will you beg me to whore yourself out for $50 while I watch from across the room? Will you beg me to dress in full lingerie at my next cocktail party, presenting yourself as the “party favor” just as soon as the ladies have had their fill of champagne?
The list of things you have said you will never do is long. Why do I feel that list will get shorter as your cock bulges desperately at the insides of the clear cage, the lock a secure reminder that you cannot have freedom, no matter how desperately you want to?
As you read these simple things, know one thing. I think about your helplessness and your despair, and I find myself so wet. Unlike you, however, I can just smile, steal away the moment, and enjoy the way my fingers feel against my wet pussy. I can take my time pleasuring myself to the brink of orgasm again and again until I’m ready to cum. Or I can just wait – wait until the time when I see you and can sit on your face, making you finish the task.
Every time I cum, it is like torture for you, because it reminds you of what you cannot have.
Affectionately,
Mistress Akasha
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